Shin hearts Yankumi
by kmad
Summary: Ah, the long since forgotten art of the self-explanatory title.
1. Chapter 1

It was not so much curiosity that consumed them as the boy came bursting through the door demanding their attention, as it was annoyance. Balls had to be caught and stopped, conversations halted, plane construction cancelled indefinitely and guitar riffs paused right at their peak. The boy noticed none of this as he stood grinning at the front of the room. All he could see was the glory of a good scoop.

"Well?! What is it?" a voice demanded of him.

"He's got nothing, just ignore him" came another.

But the class lingered, expecting. Waiting.

"You better do something! You're wasting our time!"

The boy grinned further still. In his hand he held a rolled up piece of paper, the size of a small poster. He loved the feeling of building tension. He would enjoy it a few moments longer.

"That's it!" came the roar of the crowd as they began to leap out of their seats in an effort to disarm the boy who had unwittingly interrupted their _study_ time.

"QUIET!" came an alarmingly commanding voice from the back. The class of 3-D turned to see Sawada Shin standing at the back of the room. Sawada loped over to his chair and sat down.

"He's had his fun. He'll show us now," he said, indicating to the boy. "Won't you?"

The boy at the front of the room swept the shaggy, unkempt hair from his eyes and nodded at Sawada.

"You know it."

He turned back to the rest of the class who were inches away from beating him to a bloody pulp and held up what was in his hand.

"This, gentlemen, is perhaps the greatest piece of…let's call it _information_ that you will receive all year. Not only will it restore your faith in women, but deep in your hearts, you will feel a sort of tenderness towards the schooling system that has clearly not failed us as we believe."

"Is that a threat?" Came an angry cry.

The boy paused, confused. "Wha… no. I'm just saying…"

At the back of the room, Sawada sighed and rolled his eyes.

The boy at the front, sensing he was in imminent danger of losing the crowd, unravelled the poster and attached it to the chalk board with a series of quick movements.

There was a great pause before shouts of appreciation and slaps on the back were delivered to the victorious barer of good news.

"Niiiiiice!"

"Whoa, where'd you find this piece of meat?!"

The poster revealed a picture taken from behind of a woman who was turning, unknowingly, to face the camera. She wore a surprisingly sensuous look across her face which was strict, stern; yet representing neither anger nor hatred. It was a look that simply registered a situation which lacked the necessity for excessive emotion. She adorned a svelte full length, figure hugging backless black dress which complimented and accentuated all the right curves, but left an air of mystery about her which the crowd found pleasing. Her long hair was out and fanned across her bare back. On her pouting lips she wore a deep, come-hither red.

The crowd was too busy hooting to notice the real good news. It was only when Sawada lifted his head from his desk that he found it necessary to do a double take and rise slowly from his desk.

"Yan…kumi?"

The class grew silent as they finally took in the obvious. The boy took his cue and stepped forward.

"That's right boys. This is none other than our dorky, sweatsuit wearing, pig-tailed, utterly unappealing homeroom teacher. Did I not promise a restored faith in the education system?"

Silence.

"It has to be a fake. You stuck her head on someone else's body again didn't you?"

"I guarantee I did not. That photo is pure, 100 nature's home grown. That picture, this whole revelation boys, is what is commonly referred to as a miracle."

The class had only a few moments to swallow the information before the sound of footsteps and a distant "Fight-oh, oh!" echoed in the hallway.

"It's her!"

"Quick! Move! Move! Move!"

The class raced back to their seats, the was poster ripped from the board and stuffed in the nearest locker just in time before the door opened and a cheery Yankumi bounced into the room.

She faltered, noticing her entire class was sitting, watching and waiting for her. A first if ever there was one.

"Good… morning, class?"

"Good morning Yankumi!"

She smiled. Finally she was having an effect.

She began to prepare the lesson, setting out her books and finding her chalk. There was some tape she didn't remember using stuck to the board which needed careful removing before she could begin, so she set to work while the class waited patiently.

"I still don't believe it." The murmurs began.

"Shhhh. She'll hear you."

"Why would she dress like this when she could look like that?"

Yankumi frowned.

"I would definitely take an interest in maths, that's all I'm saying."

She turned to face the group, trying to remain bright and bubbly.

"Is there something I should know?"

The group shook their heads and said nothing, their minds too busy remembering.

"You look hot in black!" came a faceless voice.

The class burst out laughing.

Yankumi found it increasingly difficult to remain light.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that?"

Goaded by the laughter, the class began to feel brave again.

"Nice pout!"

"What I wouldn't do to the other one."

"There is nothing _I _wouldn't do!!"

"Those are some nice legs, why don't you show 'em off a little more?"

"Why do you wear your hair like that anyway? It's so childish."

Yankumi was quick to respond and moved forward to stand in front of the unfortunate troublemaker who was foolish enough not to disguise his position.

"Why do _you_ think I wear my hair like this?" she asked coldly, disarming their courage.

The deathly silence was filled by the sound of one voice.

"Because you've fallen for the misconception that appearing less threatening makes you a better teacher, I suppose."

There was a simultaneous intake of breath as the class turned to face Sawada Shin, who didn't blinked as Yankumi began to walk calmly towards him.

She smiled half-heartedly and stopped before his desk, leaning over so her face was barely inches away from his own.

"And tell me Sawada, do I appear less threatening this way?" she asked, barely louder than a whisper.

Against his will he thought of the poster which moments ago had been plastered across the board.

"Well? What do you think?"

He gulped involuntarily. "No…yes, but…."

The corner of her mouth twitched as she forced back a smile.

"And my teaching?"

He could smell the faintest whiff of perfume, taste her breathe on his own. Her lips, he couldn't stop himself from noticing, were close enough to kiss if he only shifted forward slightly in his seat. Biting his bottom lip he forced himself to lift his eyes and meet her gaze.

"I…"

"Great!" she replied, reverting back to her former bubbly self. "On to maths! Take out your books everyone!"

She bounded back to the front of the room as the class reluctantly turned around and began to take out their work books, making sure Yankumi was aware of the hassle she was causing through a series of grumbles and groans.

Shin sat exactly as she had left him, taking in a few short, shallow, shaky breathes.

_Uh-oh,_ he thought, _I think I'm in trouble._


	2. Chapter 2

He ran a comb through his hair, briefly admiring the way it sat with such complacency, knowing it would change its mind later when it dried.

The shower dripped solemnly.

He watched his reflection; his other self. It must be such a relief to exist in a reality where your only duty is to appear periodically and remind people of your being; to be governed only by the necessity to put in such said appearances. Free from outside interference. Free to disappear when backs are turned. Free from consequence.

He sighed.

He hadn't wanted to get involved. He hadn't wanted them to hit him, or to feel enough desire to reciprocate that his fists had begun react before a proper assessment of the situation could be conducted. He didn't enjoy the sick feeling, knowing he should stop, walk away; end it now. He hadn't felt relieved when they finally left him, curled on the ground, cold, bleeding and shaky.

He hadn't taken pleasure in the knowledge that it was his fault.

The purple bruising, which had become more apparent upon the removal of a combination of dried blood and excess dirt, was worth far more of his concern than the missing money, he decided. He had a reputation ate stake, a graduation to attend, a promise to uphold.

He frowned.

He would need something to conceal his mistake.

That, or he needed a radical illness, one significant enough to render him bedridden by the start of the next school day.

He paused to weigh his options.

This brief consultation led to the deduction that he wasn't patient enough to stand in front of the freezer long enough to develop a cold, nor was he stupid enough to eat some of the three month old yoghurt at the back of the fridge. He would therefore have to find a way to conceal the growing colour of his left cheek in a more sensible fashion.

He bit his lip, immediately regretting it. The swelling had created a previously pleasant numbness which he had rudely interrupted. He would reap his rewards.

It occurred to him that there might be some makeup in the box of his sister's things he had unwillingly begun to collect around his apartment. Items left behind after late night crashes - too drunk to make it home, too ashamed to face overbearing parents. Occasions where she had just wanted to escape from her world and become absorbed in his. He found it difficult to refuse her, so he felt not justification for mercilessly removing her property. He was just as much to blame for her being there as she was.

He dropped his towel and pulled on his clothes, groaning as his muscles ached, refusing to whimper as the t-shirt struggled agonisingly over his head. He felt himself threatening to give in and succumb to his pain and exhaustion.

He shook head and blinked fiercely, trying to clear his mid.

_The box… the box…_

He found it in the corner, exactly where he had left it the last time he had needed it. His intention had been to keep it in a place he would easily remember the next time.

He would need to find a better place.

…_for next time._

He rummaged through the box until he came across a small compact. He smiled. Finally, some luck. As he crawled his way back to his bed, it didn't occur to him to check if the make-up was going to be of any use, or to lock the front door.

It didn't occur to him to put his sister's box in a place where he would remember it.

* * *

He sighed. 

It had been a difficult week for Sawada Shin. He had found himself, in a frustratingly unfamiliar way, unable to retain his cool head or his impassive attitude towards others. He had found himself wandering with is no place to go. Sleeping deeply, only to wake more tired than before. Hungry, with no desire to eat. Thinking for hours without recognising a single thought. It wasn't a constant state. It was more a flickering frame of mind, coming on when he least expected it.

He rolled over onto his back and stretched his hands up and over his head. Still, it was a beautiful morning. The breeze tickled his still bloated cheek as he lay on the grass. He had hoped a night's rest would have made a significant difference and taken down the swelling. His wishes had gone unregistered.

He closed his eyes and let his mind wander freely. Free, today, from anxiety.

He found that the events of last Wednesday were still alarmingly fresh in his mind. It was here that his mind chose to take a moments rest; enjoying the embarrassment and awkwardness he had felt.

_That stupid picture. What was he doing with it anyway?_

His mouth twitched

_A stalker if ever there was one._

He sat up slowly; aware the bell was going to ring any second. He should probably wander on over to school. He smiled in spite of himself. In a different time, the piecing together of such a sentence would have seemed inconceivable, and especially offensive to his young, rebellious way of thinking.

_I wonder what kind of stunt she will pull today._

"Better hurry. If you're late I'll be forced to punish you."

Sawada felt his skin jump but forced his eyes to stay looking straight ahead and his voice to remain steady.

"There is really only so much maths you can teach us, Yankumi."

She poked him in the cheek and, despite the time, sat down next to him. Sawada winced despite the swelling being on the other side of his face. It was an automatic response.

Yankumi breathed deeply, enjoying the smell of the grass. Sawada watched her from the corner of his eyes.

"It really is a beautiful day,"

_That's what I thought._

Yankumi closed her eyes, enjoying the sun. After a brief study of her profile, pleasing until he reached her hair, which forced him to recoil in embarrassment, Sawada followed suit.

He remained that way until a cloud passed over, casting him in shadow. He opened his eyes to find that it was not cloud interrupting his light, but a frowning Yankumi who had moved over and pressed her face towards his in an uncomfortable manner. He did not have the strength to conceal his fright this time.

"Argh! What are you doing?"

"Sawada…"

She reached out a hand and gently took his chin.

He shuffled uncomfortably. Her touch was too cool against his own warm skin.

"You're too close, Yankumi."

"But Sawada…"

The brief struggle that followed came to an end when the laws of gravity were enforced, hurtling him backwards, causing her to land on top of him.

"Gerroff!"

He pushed her back, tyring to regain composure.

"You know," he puffed. "You're a lot heavier than you look."

He rubbed his neck.

"What are you still doing here?!"

Yankumi had returned to her position, inches from his face, hand, a little firmer this time, on his chin.

"Sawada, sit still."

He blinked. She leaned in. Unable to withstand the tension he closed his eyes.

_Where's this going?_

"You really should have tried to use a liquid concealer. A powder is pointless - does nothing to cover up the damage."

He winced.

_What?_

"That bruising is more obvious than before, I assume."

He opened his eyes and sneered at her.

"Graduated from Cosmetics Academy first in class, did we?"

"Nope. Studied casually, in case a student tried to make an idiot out of me by wearing his sister's make-up. And not doing a very good job of it."

"How did you…"

"Are you going to tell me it was _your_ make-up?"

She leaned back and took a small container from her bag. Turning his face slightly away from hers she began to liberally apply a dark liquid to his cheek. She was gentle.

Sawada didn't protest, silenced by his humiliation.

When she was done she turned his face towards her own and looked at him sternly.

"It can't conceal the swelling, so tell everybody your dentist is a monster or something."

He nodded. He couldn't meet his eyes. Her disappointment hurt far more than the bruises.

"Sawada…"

"I'm sorry? It shouldn't have happened. I knew it then but... I …I'm just sorry."

He raised his eyes uneasily to meet hers; was comforted slightly by her softened countenance.

"It's nice to know you can accept responsibility. But Sawada," her eyes flashed. "If you ever, _ever_ come to school looking like this again, I will be forced to hit you myself."

Sawada nodded, he wasn't planning to put himself in this situation any time soon.

"Always remember, blending is the key."

He frowned.

_Is she laughing at me?_

She ignored the look he gave her, leaping to her feet. "Come on, I'll race you to school!"

She held out her hand as means of offering him help to get up. He stared at it and felt a curiously strong desire to take it. Instead he shifted his weight and rose slowly, pushing her hand out of his way.

"No wonder you wear your hair like that. Who ever heard of a thirty year old racing to school?"

Yankumi puffed her cheeks and feigned annoyance.

"I am _not_ thirty… but last one there is a rotten egg!"

She took off unexpectedly, running at full speed and only stopping once to make sure he was following.

"I'll see you there!!" she called back over her shoulder.

Sawada shook his head and began to slowly and make his way towards the gates. It was one thing to go to school, quite another to race for it.

_I haven't sunk that low. Yet._

When he reached the school entrance he found Yankumi leaning against the gates, her cheeks slightly pink from exertion.

_Why did she run the whole way? She knew I wasn't racing…_

Yankumi spied him from where she stood and pushed herself off the gate, refusing to acknowledge her exhaustion. She was definitely going to have to look into reinstating her exercise regime.

As Sawada approached she raised her right hand, grinning, and pinched her nose. It had the desired effect and despite his best effort to remain indifferent, a small smile escaped onto his lips.

"If I'm so rotten, then why did you wait for me?" he smirked.

"Because I said I would!" Yankumi replied simply, ruffling his hair and heading towards the school building.

Sawada remained where he stood, a small frown of confusion across his face. There it was again, that same curious feeling he had felt last Wednesday. It wasn't an uncomfortable feeling, but he definitely didn't like it that much either.

He bit the inside of his lip. Learning from his mistakes.

He shook his head.

_It can't be. _


	3. Chapter 3

**If anyone was following this, even vaguely, and was wondering, hey what's with the several month delay? I apologise. I moved to Switzerland and there has just been too much exploring to do. Shame on Europe.**

* * *

His eyelids felt heavy with alcohol. His chest felt light with confidence and his head too cloudy for judgement. A grin lacking reason was plastered across his face. He felt fantastic. He smiled drunkenly as he finished the can. This was a great party.

He turned and admired the room. Not small, cosy.

The walls were humming with the echoes of an odd thirty or so young men in a similar state. The space felt as alive as he did.

He ambled across the floor in search of a conversation interesting enough to not only capture his attention, but that would continue to hold it. He was assessing snippets of chatter coming from his classmates and their friends as he moved.

"…and they didn't even win!"

"No way, I would have hit him back…"

"...and then I grabbed it…"

Nothing appealed to him. Desperation began to quietly linger in the background.

And then he heard it.

"She looked fantastic."

Not surprisingly, the boy made his way over to the largest group of the gathering, intrigued. He wasn't looking to add to the dialogue, but to merely understand who "she" was and whom the individual doing the "looking" was. If a physical description of intimate details arose in regards to how "fantastic" she was, then so be it, he could handle it. In fact, he desired the challenge.

"…so good. It was practically stuck to her body. And her body!"

A roar from the crowd.

The boy pushed his way further into the circle hoping to identify the speaker and grasp a better understanding of the scene being described. He found his interest was far greater than previously determined.

"So did you…?"

The question lingered, waiting for an answer.

But the pause was thick with meaning, the smirk enough to satisfy the crowd who let out another roar, this one of congratulations. A celebration of masculinity.

The boy, who had been close to identifying the speaker, found that this bustling gesture had, irritatingly, resulted in a slight shift of everybody's position. He was back to square one. It was getting ridiculous, and he needed another drink.

"Yeah, but you know, I really think I love her."

There was a giggle amongst the crowd. Or at least, as much giggle as a group of living, breathing, chest beating males could produce.

"Oh come on! Love? Wasn't she just a good…"

"Hey, hey! Give the guy a break. When it's love, it's love."

The boy finally pushed through the crowd in time to see a flushed cheek ducking behind a shag of blonde hair. The mocking, foreseeable amongst a room full of males, began.

"So when did you know it was _love_?"

"Was it when you were dancing?"

"Was it when you were planning your futures together??"

"Was it about five minutes after you'd..."

"I knew the moment I spotted her across the room," came the sound of defence. "Love is just that powerful."

The shift in the crowd was instant. The murmurs became agreement.

The boy rolled his eyes.

"It's true. It happened to me."

"Me too."

"Isn't it incredible?!"

The boy felt alarm well up. He had not intended to step into _this_ conversation. He was trapped. Curiosity had killed the cat; he would have to stay and wait it out.

"Love is fantastic"

"Love is delicious"

"Love is…"

The boy opened his mouth to speak.

"…ridiculous."

The crowd turned to stare. The boy found himself amongst them. Their gazes settled in the corner where another boy was leaning lazily on table top. He didn't bother to raise his head from his arms. Perhaps it was weighed down by alcohol.

Doubtful.

Sawada Shin was too indifferent to feel the effect of alcohol.

"What do you mean ridiculous?"

Sawada sighed. He resigned to lifting his head and engaging in conversation.

"I mean, just that. Love is the complete opposite of what everybody seems to think it stands for. Love has the whole civilisation begging at its knees for a promise it cannot, _will not_ uphold. It is _ridiculous_."

There was a simultaneous furrowing of brows. It was far too late and they were far too drunk for an explanation that only made things more difficult to understand.

He didn't want to rant. But they were asking for it.

"Has anybody ever fallen in love to make someone else happy?"

The crowd sighed, finally able to join in.

To defend.

"All the time! That's the whole point, right?"

"Wrong. People don't believe in love thinking, "If I love them they will be happy." They do so thinking "if I fall in love, maybe it will be returned. Maybe we live in bliss. Maybe_ I_ will get _my_ happy ending."

The crowd's resolve faltered.

"I dunno… what about people who suffer in silence. Love from a distance sort of thing?"

"Yeah, that's self sacrifice that is."

"Nobody would do that for something without meaning."

Shin's mouth twitched as he tried not to laugh at the confusion colouring the drunken faces before him.

"The only people miserable in love," followed his drawn out reply, "are the ones mourning their sense of self respect. Depressed nobody is telling them how special they are, re-boosting the dignity they lost when they decided "love" was their chosen path. Buying each other useless presents which are tools to manipulate words of appreciation from another's mouth, words manufactured to boost that ego just a little more. The idea of Love should really be called validation. The meaning barely changes."

The boy looked at the crowd around him and monitored their response. It was not looking good for Sawada.

"Whoa Shin! What's with the hostility?"

"A little too defensive don't you think??"

Sawada shrugged. "It's just… ridiculous."

The crowd, who had lost interest in listening, were beginning to spin the conversation the only way they knew how.

"Sounds to me like Shin isn't getting what he wants."

"More like who."

"Oh yeah, he's got it bad!"

Sawada didn't blink. He hadn't expected them to understand. Or to try.

"Either that or he was rejected."

"Oooh. Ouch."

"I wonder who it is?"

Laughs.

"Hey Shin, where are you going?"

The laughter died as they watched Sawada Shin rise from the table and head through the door.

"Shin?"

"We're out of beer." he replied, not looking over his shoulder as he slammed the door behind him.

In the cold, dark corridor of his apartment building, Sawada Shin could still hear the party goers.

"He's like a brick wall, that one."

"Maybe he just doesn't realise the truth, no matter how hard a part of him tries."

"Has he even ever had a girlfriend? I know the girls are all over him, but… I don't think I've seen him return the compliment."

"So back to your girl with the body!"

Sawada kicked a can off the top off the stairs before heading down and outside. The party was a bust anyway.

Inside, the boy glanced from the door to the corner of the room where several cartons of alcohol were cooling in make-shift ice boxes.

Somebody turned the music up.

He frowned and wondered what, given the chance, he had been about to say.

* * *

Outside the air was refreshingly frosty. The only problem now, was what to do until morning when he would return, kick out the last of the freeloaders and begin assessing the damage to his small but humble home. He hadn't wanted to host a party.

"It's so cool you live alone," they had told him.

"You could have the wildest parties," they had coerced him.

"Think of the girls you could bring back," they had encouraged him.

"Shin doesn't have any girls," they had insulted him.

But friends since memory began, Sawada had felt honour bound to do them a favour. Just this once. He could now definitely count himself all out of favours for the time being.

_Idiots. _

With nothing else to do, he let himself enjoy the silence as he wandered aimlessly.

He smirked.

It had been fun to play with them like that.

_They were asking for it. Why didn't they just stop at girls? Love in an alcohol induced conversation is asking for trouble._

It wasn't like he didn't believe in love. He assumed it was out there somewhere. He just doubted a 17 or 18 year old male thinking with the wrong brain would understand any real meaning the word held.

He knew they would think twice before accepting his next party invite_._ Or striking up a conversation; he was not keen to be put in the situation either.

His stomach rumbled. He vaguely remembered eating something. Eons ago.

The vague recollection did little to satisfy his hunger.

At least he had found a way to escape.

He changed directions and headed towards a food district. It was late, but those desperate enough for a dollar would be open.

To take his mind of his predicament, he allowed himself to go over the day's events. He laughed loudly with nobody around, remembering Yankumi pulling out the two week old poster of her self from the spare locker. She had anticipated spiders - she wished that was what she had found. The sharp silence that had followed her revelation.

The laughter, uncontainable as it ripped through the class.

Her reaction had been admirable. Beyond description. She hadn't been able to decide on an appropriate course of action, and had found herself trying to include anger, violence, shouts, crying and the small portion of her that had been flattered, into a suitable one. The result had been comical - to anyone outside her reach.

She really was interesting.

He knew there was something else about her though. Something he kept pushing away.

A strand of hair tickled his face and he remembered her touch. He shivered.

It was cold, after all.

Disappointment.

Not a single food stall was open. Not one.

The breeze became cooler and his stomach louder.

He was near her house. He was welcome any time. The guise of an apology for a meal? Tempting.

He bit his lip.

It was this or return to the party.

He sighed.

No choice then.

"_Maybe he just doesn't realise the truth, no matter how many times a part of him tries."_

Putting the queasy, excited feeling in his stomach down to hunger, the rapid increase in heartbeat to the walking and the uneasiness of breath down to cold, Sawada Shin set off.

He would have to pay Yankumi a visit.

_There it is again._


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn't that they were incapable of concentration, or even that, through the overstimulation of life in a fast paced survival-of-the-fittest environment, they had developed difficult high standards in regards to their level of attention criterion - a condition that would surely develop a specific desire to ignore anything of considerably meagre importance. Not at all. It was simply that there was rarely an occasion where they had felt it _necessary_ to earnestly observe the circumstance to the best of their ability.

In fact, the few times their attention had been held collectively with such force as this could be counted on the thumbs of a pair of hands.

With more to spare than raise.

But here they were, despite the odds, staring at him; their concern mixed with curiosity and a particularly strong desire to take advantage of the situation.

"Do you think he hit his head?"

"No… maybe."

"He's just sitting there. Staring."

"Maybe he's changed his sleeping routine."

"You mean, to sleep with his eyes open? During the day? At school?"

"Um, yeah."

A simultaneous furrowing of brows and squinting of eyes rippled through the class.

"Has he even blinked in the last ten minutes?"

One brave friend, deciding that perhaps medical attention was required, and that all this watching and debating was a little out of order when a classmate was clearly in need of help, got up and moved towards him.

The boys, as one, moved to the edge of their seats.

"Um, are you ok?"

The boy placed a nervous hand on his shoulder.

"Shake him."

"No don't! If he's having a seizure, you'll give him brain damage – it'll make him froth at the mouth."

They paused.

The temptation of curiosity was eventually deemed inappropriate.

They resumed assessing the situation.

The brave friend twitched his mouth. Concern can mess with perception.

"I think he's ok. He's just sort of day dreaming."

"I wonder what he's thinking about?"

"Must be intense."

* * *

There are few things a member of a dangerous family would find surprising. Your fourth generation's student on the doorstep - in the middle of the night - was one of them.

But that is exactly what they had found.

Sawada Shin was an accepted guest at this particular household, but a guest of caution. And there was very little possibility that, at this time of night, he was here with a homework question. This made his business at the residence personal.

Never a secure reason for visitation rights.

At first the family had been guarded against the late intrusion. But it was a Friday night and private, business related celebrations had been taking place, relaxing the atmosphere and the tongue.

"You are a good looking kid, you know that? You must, you must just have SO many girlfriends."

Shin wrinkled his nose and tried graciously to remove the man he had never met from his shoulder.

Clearly the alcohol was in no short supply, and what they had was flowing freely.

"Ojou….. er, yeah, will be here shortly. I think."

Shin thanked another rosy cheeked gentleman and eyed the door with a calculative glance.

Perhaps his decision had been too hasty. There was a good chance he could leave and nobody would notice.

He rose stealthily from his spot in the corner.

Now.

The door to his right swung open and caught him off guard. A beautiful woman wearing a loosely tied kimono robe burst into the room.

The men in the room began to applaud.

Shin, wondering what kind of classless gathering he had stepped into, began to regroup and again make his way for the exit.

"All hail Ojou!"

Shin froze.

"Thankyou, thankyou," the woman replied. "It was a difficult deal, but we did it!"

No.

"It was brilliant Ojou! _You _were brilliant."

"You worked them over alright – never thought it possible."

(The faux-par was left unacknowledged.)

"You truly are our fourth generation!"

Shin, with a big breathe looked up at the woman and knew, without doubt.

"Yankumi?"

He noticed the pattern of the her clothing; the kind of intricate details that excited the illusion of power and influence. He saw the makeup – none of which she would bother with for school. He noticed her long hair, a little crinkled from the remnants of a fancy hair-do, fanning out over her shoulders. Not a pigtail in sight.

Around the same time he noticed how good she looked, she noticed him.

"Sawada?!"

The atmosphere paused to enjoy their humiliation.

Yankumi pulled the material as subtly as she could across as much of her leg as it would cover.

"I'm sorry for the lack of decorum, Sawada. Parties, you know. "

She reached up in an attempt to neaten her hair, but missed and instead began to pat her shoulder.

Shin pretended not to notice.

"Shall we take this to another room?"

Shin didn't speak, but managed to execute a small nod.

Yankumi glanced down at her almost outfit.

"I'll just… I'll meet you in the dining room."

Shin nodded once more and shuffled away from the bustling room and into the peace and quiet of the dining room.

He sat on the floor and wondered momentarily if hunger could cause a heart attack. If not the flutter in his chest would have to be related to what he had just been exposed to. And that was not an option.

He waited quietly and concentrated on regaining composure

As he sat, he tried to justify his reason for his late night visit. It wasn't like he was taking advantage of their open invitation and hospitality. He was just borrowing some food and a place to rest while his home was invaded by a pack of hormone crazed youths. And he hadn't been lying to himself entirely. He had felt kind of bad that she had found the poster that way. Kind of.

He certainly hadn't intended to ditch one party and intrude on another.

The door opened.

Shin looked up anxiously.

Relief.

It was Yankumi's grandfather.

"Oh hello, I didn't realise we had company!"

Shin's polite smile wrestled with the dumbfounded expression desperate to write itself across his face.

"Er.."

Smiling, the old man sat down across from Shin and offered him a drink.

"Outside the regulars."

Shin declined the drink and tried to speak. Neither worked the way he intended and he found himself tongue tied and within the moment downing a shot of the burning liquid.

He hadn't needed that.

"So what brings you to our humble abode?"

Shin tried to remember his reasons, but for the life of him couldn't get the vision of Yankumi out of his head.

He remembered how to speak.

"I'm sorry to intrude. Perhaps I should leave?"

The old man smiled.

"You don't seem like the sort to act without reason. What brought you here then?"

Shin allowed a brief explanation to escape his silence.

"And so, your first choice for escape was to come to my granddaughter for help, is that it?"

That didn't sound right.

"No, I mean, it's just, she's …"

"She's a very good teacher. Very good to her students."

That was better.

The old man watched as Shin fidgeted awkwardly and glanced at the door.

"You know," he began. "It is commonly acknowledged that the hardest thing to do is admit you were wrong."

The noise of the gathering in the other room grew louder.

"Sometimes however, if one is particularly ill-fated, the hardest thing to do is admit that a part of you was right all along; even if you have tried mercilessly to convince yourself otherwise."

He rose to leave, reaching the door and turning back once more.

"You are too young to be that unfortunate soul."

Shin sat alone.

_Wait, What?_

His contemplation was interrupted by the arrival of Yankumi who had changed into more suitable attire, but left her makeup and hair as was. She sat down in place of her grandfather.

Her eyes sparkled against her thickened lashes.

"So, Sawada, what brings you to our humble abode?"

Shin snapped out of his daze with a snort of laughter.

"You are too young to sound that old, Yankumi."

She raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Remembering his intrusion, Shin hastened to once again make with a small explanation of the circumstances back at his house.

"..and then there was talk about Love… those idiots and their "Love". I knew was it would be easier for me to leave, than to try and hurl all those morons out of my apartment, but then…."

He paused.

"Yankumi?"

She was definitely still a little woozy. Her eyes had lost focus and her face had found a silly little smile to wear.

"You have very nice hair Sawada. It's so… bouncy."

"What?"

She blinked.

"Sorry. Celebrations have gone to my head. You were saying you were in love with some moron at your apartment?"

"…No."

"I see."

She squinted at him.

"You want some food?"

"Mmhmmm."

"And you need a place to stay?"

Humiliation set in.

"If you wouldn't mind, I just need some floor space."

She smiled; glad to be on the same page.

"Take this room. No-one will be looking to use it in the morning anyway…"

A loud, drunken smash came from the front room, demonstrating her point. It's was followed by laughter.

Shin looked at Yankumi quizzically.

"Business deal. Went well."

"Ah."

She got up to leave.

"You _did_ say something about love… didn't you?"

Shin surprised himself. He was blushing.

"Not really…"

She leaned over and ruffled his hair with a slack smile.

"Very bouncy."

She reached the door.

"The ability to love is far more important than the desire, Sawada. Unless you admit to love, it is everything you doubt in it."

For the enth time that night, Shin found him self alone and overwhelmed by confusion.

And he was the smart one.

He spent the rest of his night wide awake, his thoughts fighting off any sleep that tried to approach.

When Yankumi finally stumbled into the dining room the next afternoon, hung over and exhausted, she found in place of Shin three small notes.

One thanking the family for their hospitality, despite his intrusion.

Another asking if there was any way he could ever repay Yankumi for her help.

And the third apologising for the poster she was never meant to see.

* * *

"Ok, so all those in favour of a face slap, say "I""

"I"

"Those against, "Nay"

Silence.

"The I's have it."

They gasped.

The hand poised for action was stopped mere inches from the point of contact. The owner of the unfortunate limb winced as his fingers were compressed.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Shin, we thought you were in a coma. I would never hit you without reason!"

Shin blinked and shook the hair from his eyes, assessing the situation. It took only a moment.

"You thought I was in a coma, so took a vote on whether or not to hit me?"

"Um, yes."

"And the conclusion you all reached, was to go for it?"

"That" would be… correct."

He fought to contain his laughter. And his anger.

"You're all a lot more stupid than you look."

He rose from his desk. He had too much to think about and this was not the place to try.

"Where are you going? We have English in a minute. Don't you want to see some legs?"

"I can see some legs whenever I want."

He glanced to the floor.

"Oh look, there they are."

He picked up his bag and without another word, left the room.

"Does Shin have a secret twin?"

"Maybe he's into the drugs now – it _would_ explain the coma."

They paused.

"Did _Shin_ just make a joke?!"

The class stared at one another.

_What's with Shin these days?_


End file.
